


Where's My Dragon?

by bmlhillenkeene



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4016629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmlhillenkeene/pseuds/bmlhillenkeene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Sybil Ramkin Vimes, despite Dr Lawns best efforts did not survive the birth, leaving Sam Vimes with a small, wriggling, nameless baby girl and no idea what he's going to do with himself, or with her.</p>
<p>But every night at 6 o'clock, without fail, Sam Vimes will read the only copy of Where's My Dragon to his little girl. Because some things are important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where's My Dragon?

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Sybil.
> 
> I just couldn't get the idea of Sam Vimes with a little girl out of my head, and it morphed into this. I apologise. There may be many more of these.

It was the only one of it's kind.

Sam Vimes knew this for a fact, because he'd had it made. In the dark months after Sybils death, when he hadn't been sure what to do about the small, squirming baby that had been put into his arms by a truly sorry looking Dr Lawn, he'd spent a lot of his time looking at all the things Sybil had pulled together for the baby, all the books, toys and things. It had hurt something inside him to look at them and see nothing that reminded him of her, though she had probably used most of them, the Ramkins never threw anything away if it could be ued again.

He'd tried reading the books Sybil had bought, books about cows and ducks, trying to calm a wailing baby who wanted her mother. He wanted her mother... needed her. There was nothing here to remind either of them of her, not in this nursery and Sam couldn't have that, he couldn't. So he'd taken one of the books, Where's My Cow? to a book maker with a painting of Sybil and her favourite dragon painted at a show before Sam had met her and had sat over them until they had produced the only copy of 'Where's My Dragon', with a likeness of Sybil on every single page. Then he'd found the softest, fluffiest toy dragon he could and presented both to his baby daughter.

She probably couldn't understand him, but she chewed on her new dragons tail quietly while he read the book, making sure to make all the proper noises, and hoping he was doing the right thing.

It became a thing, their thing. At 6 every night he would sweep his little girl away from her toys, or up out of her cot and into his arms, settle her on his knee with her dragon and read to her, the pages becoming worn, his fingers stroking the picture of his Sybil's face as he turned every page.


End file.
